The Revenge of Freddy
by rynebarber
Summary: In their dreams, children are mysteriously dying. Chris is a victim of these nightmares, along with his dead friends, and he has to find a way to stop the lunatic Freddy before he is killed also. Please read and review.
1. Encounters With a Maniac

Chapter 1  
  
"I can't believe this is happening", Chris whispered as he searched for any available exits. "I mean, I heard about this happening before, but seeing my friends slaughtered right in front of me by a crazed lunatic with a claw for a hand is just a really fucked up dream! Why can't I wake up?"

Behind him, Chris could hear the clanging of the killer's boots on the metal floor. That was another thing that bothered him. Where the hell was he and why were he and his friends there? He was getting a little frightened now.

"Where the hell are you?" the voice from behind growled. "Playing hide-and- seek isn't one of my favorite games. Now get the fuck out here!" Chris heard a crash from behind, and realized that the killer had just threw the barrel that he had just passed. He didn't turn around to see where the maniac was, but instead started hauling ass out of there. The floor seemed to be slippery, and Chris looked down. Seeming to seep through the metal like a drain, water was starting to come through the floor, making it harder and harder for him to make it to wherever he had to go to get out of there.

He started to make his way cautiously to the light that he could see ahead of him. He hoped that it was the right way out. He started to slip on the floor, but regained his balance. "You know you'll never make it", the lunatic snarled. "This is my dream world, and I can make it change. I am able to reshape this world into anything I want!" Unable to hold his ground anymore, Chris fell onto the wet metal. "Shit," he uttered. "What am I going to do now?"

"This is it. I have you now. You're gonna die very slowly for making me go through this trouble", the lunatic screamed. Chris could see the man clearly now. His face looked charred and burnt, and the light glinted off of his claw hand like the sun glints off a newly polished car. The man seemed to stretch towards Chris, and grabbed him by the shirt. "You're dead now, Prissy Chrissy!" The man raised his claw towards Chris's face and started to push the claws into his eyes.


	2. Stunning Revelations

Chapter 2

"Rrrrrrinnnnngg!"

Chris bolted up from his bed, and looked around his room. Everything looked normal, nothing out of place or like the place that he had been in. _So it was just a dream_, he thought. _Man, I_ _can't wait to tell Jack and Tracey about this_.

Chris got out of bed and opened his bedroom window. The sun was shining brightly, and it looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. He got dressed, and headed downstairs, as his usual ritual entailed. His mother was standing at the kitchen sink, preparing his father's breakfast. The air smelled of eggs and sausage, and he sat down at the kitchen table.

"Morning Chris," his dad uttered from behind the morning paper he was reading.

"Morning Dad," Chris returned. "I had the strangest dream last night. I was in some warehouse or something with my friends. We were hanging out there, and then all of a sudden, my friends were dead and I was running from this maniac with a claw for a hand!"

"Well, that sounds like a pretty good movie," his mom said as she placed a plate of eggs on the table next to Chris. "I heard you moaning in your sleep... at least I hoped you were sleeping. I think it's time we had a little talk."

"MOM! I know about that. Practice abstinence, and when I am ready to have sex, use a condom. You don't need to remind me."

"I'm just looking out for your safety. You have a girlfriend now, and you're a senior. I know the pressures of school. Lose your virginity by prom night, that sort of thing. Hell, your father didn't drill me until we were in college!"

"Jesus, Mom, spare me the details! I'm getting out of here. See you after school." Chris got up from the kitchen table, grabbed his bookbag, and left the house. He walked to school, like he did every day.

Outside, before first period began, he waited for Tracey, Jack, and his girlfriend Jessie. After about five minutes, Chris went inside. They had all been late for some reason. He walked into English, and everybody said hello to him as he took his seat.

The bell finally rang, and his friends had still not shown up. Jessie came in and sat next to him. She looked sad, and he could tell that she had been crying. "I can't believe it. I can't believe they both... Poor Jack and Tracey!" She started to sob again. Chris put his arm around her.

"What? What happened to them?"

She looked up at him, surprised. "You didn't hear?" Chris shook his head. "Jack and Tracey were both found dead in their beds. They had claw marks all over their bodies and Jack had been cut to pieces!"


	3. Arising Suspicions

**Chapter 3**

"Jesus Christ!" Chris shouted. "Do they know what kind of sick bastard would do that?"

Jessie shook her head, sighing as she did so. "No, the police found no footprints or evidence at either of their houses to suggest that an outside criminal had broken in. All they know is that the person had probably been someone that they both knew, because there was no sign of a struggle."

"Oh man... What if the person who killed them goes to our school?" Chris turned in his seat. All of the kids in the class seemed to be fine, like nothing had happened. Maybe they didn't know that two of their classmates were dead. "Does anyone else know?"

Jessie shook her head again. "No... At least, I don't think so. They haven't released any details as of yet to any news stations, so I don't think that most people know yet."

Chris thought of something. "Well, then how do you know that they are both dead?"

"Chris, my dad is police chief, remember? Are you suspicious of me?"

"No, no. Not at all. It just seemed strange that you were the first to know." Chris got up and grabbed his backpack.

"Where are you going?" Jessie got up and grabbed his shoulder. "You aren't going home, are you?"

Chris nodded. "I'm sorry, but I can't sit in school all day knowing that my friends are dead. I'll see you tonight." Chris bent down and kissed her.

Jessie sighed. "I understand. I'll see you later."

Chris went to the front of the class and opened the door. He had a bad feeling. He needed to go home and think things out, without interruptions. Some things seemed too coincidental to him, like him having a dream about his friends dying. He hadn't told Jessie about the dream, because he didn't want to scare her. The thought of dying scared him too, and he couldn't just sit around and wait for it to happen.

_I guess I'll swing by both their houses and check it out_, he thought. He walked out the school's two glass front doors and walked to the street. It was only a block from the school to Jack's house, so he might as well go there first.

As he ran, Chris thought about the weird things that had been happening. _First the dreams, then_ _my friends die. Strange._

After about five minutes, Chris arrived at Jack's house. It didn't seem like anyone was home. They were probably out making arrangements for the funeral. Chris walked up to the front door.

"I have to see the scene of the crime," Chris said aloud. He pulled open the screen door and proceeded to break into the house.


	4. Lunch Time For Jessie

Chapter 4

The sunny town of Santa Barbara seemed to grow darker as Jessie stepped out at lunch. It may have been the sun ducking behind a cloud, but Jessie could feel something brewing within her small, skinny body.

_I wonder what Chris is doing_, she wondered as she walked to Frank's, the local hangout for all the teenagers after school let out for lunch. Today, the place seemed empty. There were no voices yelling about how they were failing a class or talking about the latest Wes Craven movie they saw. Something about the place made her feel uneasy, something inside wanting an explanation as to what the hell was going on.

She sat down at the first stool on the left, waiting for Sandra, the waitress behind the counter, to take her order. Sandra looked up from her book.

"Ah, Ms. Jessie Colton. What'll it be today, sweetie?"

"Hmmm... I think the bacon cheeseburger sounds good today." Jessie licked her lips. "But anything is good when it's made at Frank's!"

"Damn right it is. If I wasn't so overweight I think I'd eat here myself. Hon, you're lucky you're so skinny and petite. I wish I was."

"Aww, Sandra. You aren't fat. Bigboned is all." Sandra was always complaining about how overweight she was, when in actuality, she was quite skinny herself.

"Sheesh, instead of spouting my mouth off, I should be getting you your lunch. Unlike me, you have to be gettin' somewhere." Sandra set down her book, took her pad of paper with Jessie's order, and proceeded into the kitchen.

Jessie got off the stool and went to the bathroom. She knocked on the door, like she was always told to. When no one answered, she opened the door and went inside. She looked at herself in the mirror. She never thought of herself as being pretty, but Chris always said that it was all in her head.

She left the bathroom after she was done, thinking that her food was ready. Outside the sky was getting darker and darker, and it looked as if the perfect storm was coming. She went back to the counter. By this time her food was usually done. Jessie waited another five minutes, and then decided to venture into the kitchen to see what the holdup was. Sandra was lying on the floor by the stove, sleeping, but she did not have a peaceful look on her face like in the movies.


	5. Jack's Home Life

**Chapter 5**

Chris opened up the door to Jack's house, where no light shined. It was dark and gloomy, and the sun had disappeared, giving way to dark clouds that blocked out all light. The hallway was as dark as midnight, appearing to be untouched for years.

But that couldn't be true, because Jack and his family had been living in this house for years. However, it _was_ true the stories kids told about Jack's family. Jack Strander lived with his two parents and three brothers. Although you couldn't really call his mother and father parents. They were not the sort of role models that you would want to follow in their footsteps.

Jack's father was a drunk, and every adult in Santa Barbara knew it. Sometimes he was a violent drunk, and those were the times Jack came to school with bruises or black eyes. Jack's father never went outside, never associated with other people, or bought his own alcohol. He relied on his wife, who wasn't much better than her husband, to buy his booze.

Jack's mother was a better person than her husband, but only if she wasn't stoned or lost in one of her other personalities. In other words, Jack's mother was mentally insane, induced with a case of schitzophrenia that, most of the time, could not be controlled. When she would slip into a war widow or even a cross-dressing man, nothing could make her come out of the spell until she slipped out just as she had slipped in.

Jack had tried to go through his life without complaining about these problems, but it was hard for him because the kids would make fun of him. Chris remembered one particular time when the kids had been absolutely harsh. He could see it in his head, just as vivid as if it were yesterday. Now thinking about it and entering Jack's house, Chris could not stop the painful memory from resurfacing.


	6. The Memory

**Author's Note: **This chapter is written in present tense because I wanted to express the memory in the most vivid way possible.

**Chapter 6**

_Chris waits at the bike rack for Jack, after the school's last bell has rung. It is Friday, the kids favorite day when anything is open for doing on the weekend. Waiting for Jack was a regular tradition, and Chris never left without him._

_Jack comes out of the school's front doors, a big smile on his face. He holds a paper in his hand, and it has a big **A **on the top._

_"Shit, you got an A on your essay?" Chris asks as they unlock their bikes from the rack._

_"Yup. Why, what did you get?" Jack still has that big grin on his face, the same grin that Chris will remember five years later, thinking about Jack after he died. _

_"Well... Not so good. I pulled a C- on it, but the fucking teacher is always hard on me. I can never figure out what the old bat wants me to write about." Chris wrinkles his face. "Why don't you write my essays for me?"_

_"Ha. Very funny." Jack wheels his bike out to the road and gets on the seat. "You just need to work harder, and study more. Playing video games doesn't help your grades at all."_

_The door of the school bursts open, and Klarc Chipper walks out. "What the _fuck_ are you dickwads doing here now? Playing around, jacking each other off?"_

_Chris rolls his eyes. He is used to constant bullying, and he doesn't really care what the brainless punk really has to say about him. "I think that the school is open to the public, so unless you have a paper that says we can't be here, we can stay as long as we want."_

_"You think so? I don't think that the school wants some kid with psychotic parents running around the school like he owns the fucking thing." Klarc can never think of anything else to say except for "fucking", or any other curse words that he can find in the peanut he calls a brain._

_"What did you just call my parents?" Jack shouts._

_Klarc probably can not remember what he says, and he changes the subject. "I heard that being crazy runs in the family, and you'll probably become just as nuts as your fat mom, and just a drunk like your dickless pop."_

_Jack is furious, and Chris can almost see the blood rushing to his face. "You can make fun of my shitty parents. Go ahead. But it's not my fault they are like they are, and you have no reason to make fun of me because of my background."_

_Klarc mimics Jack's mouth movements, and then spits at him. "I can to. The reason that they are sucky parents is probably because you were born. When I see your face it makes me wanna take up drinking too."_

_Jack rushes Klarc, running at him and dropping his bike. He jumps on Klarc, and Chris can only see a flurry of fists before Klarc goes down. "Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit, this isn't good at all." Chris tries to pull Jack off of Klarc, but Jack just keeps punching Klarc. Soon blood is running down Klarc's face and he is unconcious._

_Someone calls the police, and an ambulance comes and takes Klarc away. Later Chris finds out that Klarc's nose and jaw are broken. Jack is tried as a juvenile and is sentenced to community service._

_Three years later Klarc is found with possession of marijuana in his home, and before he can be taken away and tried as a juvenile, he pulls a gun out from his coat pocket, cocks it, puts it in his mouth, and pulls the trigger._


	7. A Request for Klarc, Part I

**Author's Note: **This chapter goes back in time a little bit, specifically two years. I did this to correspond with Chapter 6, and later in the story, you'll see why... Read on please, and write some reviews. I need props!

**Chapter 7**

**Two Years Ago**

_Klarc walks to his kitchen, a joint hanging out of his mouth. He is high, like always, but it is understandable. Even though he has made fun of Jack's parents in the past, his are no better. Both his mother and father are never home, and although smart in most subjects, parenting is not one of them. Believing that problems at home can be worked out on their own is obviously not solving anything._

_Klarc, now two years older but not two years smarter, isn't the same as he was during middle school. Bullying is not his strong point; lately, nothing is. Unbelievably, his grades have dropped lower than before, and instead of hanging with friends, he sits at home smoking dope and trying to get the ultimate high. And what friends does he have to hang out with? After his meeting with drugs, his friends dropped their relations with him._

_He travels to the fridge, grabs a beer, and pops the top. Though underage, he has his ways of getting booze, stealing being one of them. After draining the beer, he makes his way back to the couch, where the soft blue glow of the television screen is warm and inviting. He sits back in the chair, letting sleep take over him._

_He wakes up, or at least, it feels like it. But his surroundings seem different... Something isn't right. He gets up, looking around. The walls look like putty, melting away. He thinks that it is the affect of the pot on his mind, but it isn't. It is a dream world, one that can be altered any way that the master wants. _

_The master is Freddy, a hideous figure that is now only a shadow of the man he once was. Although it is hard to call Freddy a man in his life before he was burnt. Freddy was a sexual predator, a psychotic child molester. _

_Freddy pops up behind Klarc. They say evil is attracted to evil, but the different levels of evil are apparent in this room. _

_"How ya doin', stoner?" Freddy says as he puts his cold, metal claws on the back of his neck._

_"Who the fuck are you?" asks Klarc, and he whirls around. Freddy is not there._

_"Over here, dipshit. My name's Freddy, but I believe, in your head, you already know me. You see, I know you. I have been in your dreams, in your head like a fucking leech. I know what you think about, what you want, and even who you'd like to fuck!"_

_"Yeah, right. I know what this is. It's happened before. This is just because I'm high."_

_"Let me prove it to you, Klarc." Freddy suddenly appears right in front of Klarc and grabs him by the neck. "You wish you had better parents, you think about being smarter. And for who you'd like to fuck... Let's see. Ms. Jessie Colton. Right. Am I right or what. Because I don't fuck around here. You think I'm joking?" Freddy raises his clawed arm, pushing it to Klarc's neck just enough to make a little cut. "I will stab the fuckin' shit out of you. You'll be bleeding like a stuck pig, and then I'll take your insides out and make your parents eat them while I fuck your mom. How do you think they would like that?"_

_"You're a sick bastard, you know that?" Klarc sounds genuinely scared now._

_"Yeah, I know I am, and I pride myself on it all the time. Now you're gonna do what I say, or you're gonna spend the rest of your life in prison while I torture you. Think about it. You in prison, sleeping. Me in your dreams. I will torture you. And you know what? No one will be able to stop me. Except for you, of course. But what the fuck are you gonna do? Spit on me?"_


	8. A Request for Klarc, Part II

**Author's Note: **This chapter is still set two years ago, and is the second part to Chapter 7. These chapters are set 3 years after the events in Chapter 6. Kind of confusing, I know, but I promise there is a reason for it.

**Chapter 8**

_Freddy lets go of Klarc, letting the boy fall to the floor. "So, are you going to follow through and do the right thing, or am I going to have to torture you for the rest of your life? Because either way, it's fun for me. Torture feels good, and no matter what, I will eventually kill you. You can make it easy, or you can make it hard. You can decide."_

_Klarc grabs his neck. "You fucker, you could have killed me right there!"_

_Freddy grins, his crooked teeth seeming to gleam. "That is the whole point. I want to scare the shit out of you before I actually do kill you. Now... For my request."_

_"What is it. I don't wanna die, so I will do whatever you want."_

_Freddy licks his lips, and Klarc can see the madness in his eyes. Suddenly, Klarc's eyes start to bleed. "Quit staring at me. I can blur your vision so much you want be able to fucking take a piss without someone helping you!"_

_The blood is running down Klarc's face now, and Klarc cannot see. He bumps into the coffee table and the beer bottle falls off. "What the fuck did you do to me? It feels like someone is squeezing my eyes!"_

_"That's exactly what I'm doing. You're pretty smart when you're about to die. Ever wonder what it feels like to have an eye pop? I'll show you!" Freddy shoves his hand into the air, flexing his arm. He slowly clenches his hand together into a fist, and pulls back._

_Klarc's eye flies out of its position in his skull, the cords hooking it to the back of his head severed. Freddy grabs it and puts it in his pocket. "Just a little souvenir, and a little reminder of what else I can do to you if you don't listen to my demand."_

_The blood gushes down Klarc's face, the place where his eye was now just a cavity in his face. "OH GOD!! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! IT HURTS SO BAAAAD!" he screams as his hands instinctively rush up to where his eye had been. _

_"Stop being such a pussy. Suck it up and take it like a man. Ready to listen to what I have to say?"_

_"Yes, yes! Just make the pain go away!" Klarc is still grabbing at the new hole in his head._

_"Afraid I can't do that. Just wouldn't do to give you your eye back. Now here's my proposal. The cops are coming for you. An anonymous tip has given that there is illegal substance abuse at this house, and who else is here? Just you Klarc. I will be gone when they get here. But now for the request. You will let the cops in. They will find the pot, the drugs, the alcohol, and will want to take you back to the station. But you won't go, will you? No... You will take your gun. Yes, the one that is sitting on the desk, on your right."_

_Klarc looks to his right. "But we don't own a gun."_

_Freddy grins and points to the desk. "Now you do. Problem solved." The gun appears on top of the books that are piled all over the desk. "Now, you will take that gun, and push it to your mouth. You will say to them, 'Freddy has returned', and pull the trigger. I could kill you myself, and make it easier, but that wouldn't be any fun, would it? No, it wouldn't. So you will kill yourself, leaving a nice big mess for the ME to clean up. And why do I want you dead? I like torturing people, but I need your help. I am going to get revenge on Chris and his friends, and you will help me. You don't know it, but you have the potential to be just as evil as me."_

_Freddy leaves, and this time, Klarc really wakes up. He fumbles at his face. His eye is still missing. _

_There is a knock at the door. Klarc can see the flashes of red and blue shining on the walls, and knows that it is the police. He grabs the gun and_

_(Follow Through)_

_chants in his head_

_(Follow Through)_

_and he walks to the door_

_(Follow Through)_

_and opens it._

_(Follow Through)_

_He lets the police in_

_(Follow Through)_

_hiding the gun,_

_(Follow Through)_

_and after softly chanting_

_(Freddy has returned, Follow Through)_

_he puts the trigger to his mouth_

_(Pull the fucking trigger)_

_and follows through._


	9. Restaurant Dreams

**Author's Note: **This chapter is now set in the present time, and switches back to Jessie.

**Chapter 9**

**Present**

Jessie looked down at Sandra, shocked that she was sleeping on the job. Sandra made noises as she slept, obviously having some kind of nightmare.

Jessie went to Sandra's side and shook her gently. Sandra did not stir. Now that Jessie was close to Sandra, she could see that Sandra had some scratches on her arms. As she slept, Sandra moved her arms about her, flailing around and thrashing as if she were having a seizure.

Jessie tried to move Sandra away from the stove so that she would not hurt herself, but she was too heavy. Jessie got the cordless phone from the bar and brought it back to the kitchen, just in case there was a need to call 911.

Suddenly, Jessie noticed more scratches on Sandra's face and arms. She was pretty sure that the scratches hadn't been there before. _She must have scratched herself during the seizure_, Jessie thought.

Sitting down next to Sandra, Jessie got comfortable enough so she could lean against one of the cabinets in the cupboard and watch Sandra. She wanted to make sure that Sandra didn't hurt herself during her epileptic spell.

Jessie felt tired as she sat and watched, and before she knew it, she had slipped into a sleep as deep as Sandra.

Jessie sat up from the counter. She must have only been sleeping for a couple of minutes, but Sandra was standing at the stove, looking frightened.

"Oh, Jessie, you're here too? You fell asleep, didn't you?" Sandra questioned.

"Yeah, but I'm awake now. How are you feeling now. You had a seizure and I found scratches on your body."

"You're not awake. This is a dream. Mine and your's." Sandra looked around, making sure that everything was clear. "I guess it's time I explain about..." She paused. "Well, about the town itself. The history."

Jessie looked confused. Her beautiul green eyes clouded over, and she started to question Sandra when a screach came from outside the swinging kitchen door.

"Shit. I guess there is no time for explanation now. Just trust me when I say that this is a dream. A killer, named Freddy, is here in this dream and he wants us both dead. We need to find a safe place, or wake up, and I will tell you all about this. But right now, the only thing you need to know is, if you die in your dream, you are dead. You won't wake up. You know all the dreams you used to have? It's all bullshit. Forget the rules of other dreams. Think of this as a no-holds barred fight to the death. Just follow me. I know this place like the back of my hand."

Before Jessie could say anything else, the door to the kitchen burst open. A man. Wait, not a man, but a hideously burnt figure. He wore a striped shirt, not something of fashion in the new millenium. _Clear your mind_, she thought. _You think of stupid shit at a time like this? Right now, you have to believe what Sandra says. You need to be on your toes, thinking like the big girl you are_.

"You little bitch! I've waited a long time to kill you!" the man in the striped shirt screamed. "Sandra, you whore, get over here and give me a big, sloppy kiss!"

Freddy's tongue shot out of his mouth, and seemed to stretch until it reached Sandra. It wrapped around her neck and pulled her towards Freddy. Sandra struggled, but she was no match for the dream master's tongue.

"How 'bout I lick you out? Would you like that?" Freddy sucked his tongue back in. Sandra dropped to the floor. "Huh. Still as fat as ever, I see. You dropped like you had cement shoes on. I told you to go on that diet!"

Freddy, who had hidden his claws behind his back, now pulled them out. They glinted in the air as he swung them down. They slashed at the shirt, tearing the tender flesh of Sandra's stomach apart.

"AAAHHH!" Sandra screamed as the blood poured out of her gash. "RUN, JESSIE, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

"Ever hear of _seppuku_, bitch? I have just performed a demonstration!" Freddy laughed in delight, and he lashed violently up her stomach.

Sandra screamed again ina nguish as her intestines poured forth from her body, leaving their systems. "Have you tried eating raw organs, Saaaaaaaandrrrrrraaa? They're very tasty, especially fresh. Here, try some," Freddy said as he picked up her small intestine and shoved it into her mouth.

Sandra violently vomited the organ back up, along with some blood. It splattered onto the floor around them. "Oh, don't like? That's ok, more for me. I guess I'm done with you." Freddy picked up a kitchen knife and pushed Sandra against the wall. He swung the knife forward, and stabbed it into her head hard enough for it to come out the other side and stick in the wall.

"Now for you, Jessie!" He looked around, but Jessie was already gone.


	10. Take It To Heart

**Chapter 10**

After thinking about the memory, it was hard for Chris to enter Jack's house and look for whatever he needed to find. The hallway actually appeared darker than before, and Chris was a little frightened to approach it.

And that was the problem. What_ was _he searching for? He had no idea, but he figured he'd know it when he saw it. The first place he thought of to go was the living room. Chris would start there and work his way through the house.

Walking through the hallway, Chris felt a tingle at the back of his neck. It was strange being in Jack's house alone, especially since Jack was dead. There was a branching in the hallway, with a door on the left and a door a little further on the right. The left led to the kitchen, and the right led to the living room, so Chris continued down the hallway and hooked a right.

The living room was just as dark as the hallway before it, but Chris knew his way around the house well enough. He went to the light switch in the right corner of the room and flicked it on. The light flickered, but didn't go on. Chris flipped the switch a couple more times until the light sputtered to life.

The room was splashed with bright yellow and Chris's eyes had to close shut for a while, being adjusted to the darkness. When he could finally stand to open them, he glanced around the room. It was messy; whenever Chris had been over before, it had been absolutely dirty, with beer bottles strewn all over the floor and stains on the carpet.

They must have cleaned a bit, because it wasn't as bad as before. Stepping around the pizza box on the floor, Chris went to the stairs. He couldn't find anything of interest in the living room, so he climbed the staircase and entered Jack's room.

The place had been cleaned because of the murder, and the bed and bedding was gone. But the smell was still there, and Chris gagged on it. He had never actually been at a crime scene, and it was a shock to his body, especially because it was only a day from the murder.

After regaining composure, Chris started to sift through Jack's things. The mirror was bloody, for some reason. But Jack had been killed in his bed, and the mirror was across the room from where Jack slept.

Walking closer, Chris could see that the blood actually spelled words. Scrawled across the mirror were these words:

**GO BACK TO THE DREAM**

The words couldn't have been there when the police showed up, because they would have wanted to take the mirror for evidence.

"Either someone is messing around or these words were written for me. I don't understand."

Chris stared back at the letters, but they had changed. They now read:

**I'LL EXPLAIN LATER**

"What the fuck! They changed! Is... Is this Jack?"

Again the letters had changed.

**YES. BUT RIGHT NOW, YOU NEED TO SAVE JESSIE**

"Why? Where is she?"

**SHE CAN BE FOUND AT FRANK'S. HURRY!**

****Chris didn't stick around for anymore. He didn't know what the fuck was going on, but he had to take what was written to heart and get the hell out of there. And that's what he did.


	11. The Ritual

**Chapter 11**

For two years, Klarc had sat in the bleak, white nothingness of the afterlife. Waiting and waiting, but for what, he did not know. He was stuck. Nothing to do, nothing to see. He could not even tell what he looked like anymore.

But it didn't matter. He was dead, and nothing could bring him back from this afterlife except Freddy. The fucking dream master. _Maybe I should have gone to jail_, he had found himself thinking a lot.

But with all this time on his hands, Klarc looked at the large picture of himself. Finding details of himself that he did not like, the inside of him was reeling, and he looked at every part of his life with contempt.

Some things he did not understand about himself, about the way he had acted in instances when he really felt a strong emotion. Klarc felt that the whole of his life was wasted on drugs and alcohol, not feeling like he did enough in the time that was given to him.

Which was true. Alcohol and drugs, sometimes used at the same time, had taken everything away from him. All of his time was spent on these substances, that _shit_, and he actually felt sorry for himself. The buzz had seemed nice at first, but when he looked back at what he had done, he was ashamed and he felt frustrated and furious at his parents.

_Ohhh_, he thought. _My parents_. The feeling in his gut now was of anger, and he thought of their faces. But being away from them, never really _knowing_ them, seemed to blur his thoughts, and he couldn't come with a visual of their appearance, let alone their personalities.

Somehow, Jessie and Chris were to blame for this. His death, his staying in this... Purgatory! He could blame it all on them, the pain and suffering in his life. Although, deep inside, he knew this was not true.

Klarc noticed that around him the whiteness of the blank space had changed to a deep, blood red. He knew what this meant. Freddy had killed again. This space changed colors often, and Klarc had grown accustomed to the dark red. When this happened, a portal opened in frront of him, allowing him to see the victim, in their agony and pain as they were dying.

It was a lady, a nice looking lady that looked like she worked at a diner. And Jessie was standing behind her. Just as Freddy had administered the final blow, a knife to the head, Jessie ran, and Freddy was unable to see where she went.

Klarc was actually interested. His personality had changed in these two years, becoming more evil as he saw more and more people killed at the hands of Freddy. Klarc wanted to try this; killing people seemed fun to him. And he had to assume that the reason he was in this blank space was because Freddy wanted -needed- him for something.

Damn it felt good to be needed.

Freddy looked through the portal. Mysteriously, confusingly, he was the only other one that could see the portal. "Where the fuck did she go?" he asked, looking around the room to see if Jessie was hiding.

"She ran out of the room. I think she may be going to school."

"Ok. Screw her for right now. I need your help. This is the part where you come in." And suddenly Freddy was standing beside Klarc. "I need you to help me in this ritual.You are the only one who can do it, because you have hatred in you, hatred just like me. Because in some ways, you are just like me. The ritual will help me travel to the real world, not just a dream world where I can only kill sleeping people. I crave more, and I have a sort of grudge against Chris. A big grudge."

"Well, what do I do?"

"All you have to do is stand there. Now I will perform the ritual." Freddy took his clawed hand and cut himself on the arm. He put a vial underneath the cut, and blood dripped into it. "Your turn," he said, and he slashed Klarc's arm. He put the same vial underneath Klarc's cut, and Klarc's blood mixed with Freddy's. "Now, I drink this." Freddy lifted the vial to his mouth and downed the substance.

"And for the final part. I SEND YOU TO HELL!" Freddy lifted his hands and snapped his fingers. Klarc's body seemed to drop through the now black space, where he sunk through into flames below. "Oh, sorry. I didn't tell you that the ritual needed a sacrifice for me to be transported to the living." With that, Freddy's body seemed to fold up, and he appeared outside, with the black clouds covering the sky.

"Now this is my favorite part," Freddy cried as he sharpened his claws on the metal sign, creating a loud screaching noise.

A couple across the street looked over, startled at the sound. They saw the claws on Freddy's hands, and his hideously burnt face, and took off running down the street.

"Humanity's in for some trouble. I don't fuck around, and I won't give up until the fucker Chris is lying in his own blood."

A man standing at the corner looked at him, shocked at what Freddy had just said.

"What are you looking at?" Freddy asked, and with one swift swipe, chopped through the man's neck with his claws. He picked up a metal pole lying on a lawn that was being worked on, and stuck the head on it. "Matches, I need matches!"

Freddy walked to the nearest store, a block away, carrying the pole with the head on it in his hands like a totem pole. He walked into the store, and the man behind the counter saw the head and tried to run. Freddy jumped in front of him, said "Where the fuck are you going?", and shoved the pole down the clerks open mouth. When Freddy was sure he was dead, he pulled the pole out and exclaimed, "Service around here is really bad!"

He walked to the counter, where a Bic lighter case was sitting. He grabbed one, flipped the switch, and lit the head on the pole on fire. He walked out of the store, ready to spread fear.

"Freddy's back, bitches!" he screamed as he walked down the street, the head burning brightly through the darkness of the day.


	12. Finding Jessie

**Chapter 12**

Chris took the mysterious mirror's advice and ran out of the house, making sure that he left no evidence behind that he was in the house. He left everything in place, and didn't even need to clean the mirror since it magically cleaned itself.

Hopping over the hedges, he took off down the street, noticing that the skies were now as black as night. Something was happening, but he did not have time to sort things out. If Jessie was in trouble, he was going to save her before anything happened to her.

He was west of the diner, and he knew the town like the back of his hand. He took the alley on the other side of the Wal-Mart, making sure that it wasn't blocked or the home of a hobo. Running through the alley, he was surprised to find that it wasn't littered with trash like usual. That was good enough for him, since he realy didn't feel like fucking around with a black plastic trash bag on his leg trying to get to Jessie.

Jessie. Right now that was the only thing he could think about. Jessie. His love, the only thing that mattered to him at this instance. Knowing that she was somehow in trouble, he could feel the adrenaline rushing through him, _surging_ through him, like he was somehow electrocuted and it gave him added energy. Nothing had ever meant that much to him before.

Now on the other side of the alley, he crossed the strangely deserted street, only one block from the diner. From here he could see that there was no one on the streets, no one taking their usual afternoon walks or coming home from a nice day at the local spa. No, the streets had the eerie appearance of a ghost town, and for some reason, that scared Chris.

The diner appeared in the distance, the brightest thing that he could see in the darkness of the now-ominous day. The lights seemed to provide a sort of haloed look, like the monument of good when all else was evil and looked at its bleakest.

He entered the already open doorway, searching the diner for any sign of life. Another strange observance was that no one was sitting at the tables or bar, eating their late lunch. Jessie wasn't here, that he could see, and it didn't appear that anyone was working. It actually looked like the diner was closed, but that couldn't be because it was a weekday and it was always open on weekdays, even holidays.

Chris almost left, thinking that maybe he had been hallucinating or something when he was at Jack's house, when the smell hit him. It was rank, nothing he had ever smelt in his life, and trying to hold his breath, he made his way back inside. Obviously something had to be there, or the smell would not be.

He went to the bathroom and knocked on the door, fearing to open the door and find someone "doing their business". After no one answered, he opened the door, making sure that there was in fact no one using it. Finding it empty, he headed to the only other place available: the kitchen.

A big sign located by the door stated _**STAFF ONLY**. _Not being one to break the rules, Chris hesitated, but decided that he had a legitimate reason to enter. He swung the door open, and the sight that beheld him almost made him vomit on the floor. Intestines on the floor; a worker's dead body; and Jessie, sleeping, on the floor.

Trying to avert his eyes from the dead, gutted clerk, he walked over to the sleeping Jessie. She was trembling in her sleep, and softly moaning somehting inaudible. She had scratches on her face, and Chris feared that she was hurt in other places. Chris shook her, put Jessie did not seem to wake up. He shook her again and again, and she still not wake from her troubled sleep. Once more he shook her, hard enough to jolt her body and move her on the floor, and she finally stirred from her sleep.

As she realized where she was, she became horrified. "How did I get back here?" she sputtered as she tried to stand up. Her legs were asleep, and she collapsed back to the floor like a baby deer trying out it's legs for the first time.

"Honey, it's ok! I'm here now. We're going to call the police, and then we're gonna get you out of here. You can tell me what happened."

Jessie was still shaking. "No, no no! I don't want to repeat what happened here! The fucking... the fucking... the fucking _DICK_ killed Sandra! He killed her, and now she's dead! She's dead!" She started crying, and Chris just held her in his arms, wiping the tears away from her cheeks as she let her anger, sadness, and fear out at the same time.


	13. Police Visit

**Chapter 13**

The police cruiser pulled up twenty minutes after Chris made the call. The lights flashed across the rooms, cutting through the gloom that seemed to hang in the air.

Chris was waiting at one of the tables, sipping a cup of coffee that he and Jessie had made. After all the things that had happened to them, it had seemed reassuring to have a nice warm cup of coffee. A door slammed, and Chris could hear the sound of the cop's boots crunching on the dirt and gravel outside.

The little bell that was located on top of the door rang when the cop opened it. He stepped inside, shivering. "What the hell is with this weather today? Sure it's close to fall, but it shouldn't be freezing outside yet." He sniffed the air. "Do I smell coffee?"

Chris nodded. "We needed something to help us stay sane. And to clear the stench."

The policeman looked back and forth from Chris to Jessie. "Well, you two don't look like killers to me. You're just teenagers. Anyways, wanna whip me up a cup of coffee?"

Jessie's mouth dropped open, and she stammered, "D... Don't you wanna take a look at the crime scene?"

The cop waved his hand. "That can wait. Let's sit down and chat about what happened first." He grabbed a chair from the opposite table and sat down at Chris's table. "Now, you're Chris, right? Chris what?"

"Stanton. Chris Stanton," replied Chris.

"Oh, OK, Stanton. And you're Jessie, right?" he asked, pointing his finger at Jessie.

"Yeah. I'm Jessie Colton. I'm the one who was with Sandra when she died."

"Well, Stanton, you've got a nice girl here. Very pretty." The cop paused. "Good body too, if you know what I mean. I wouldn't hesitate to... uh..." He banged his hand down on the table. "Bang her... You are a virgin, right? Nice curvy girl like you, I wouldn't be surprised if you have already been stuck. No, I take that back. You aren't a virgin, right? How do you like it? You can tell me. You like giving or getting? Top or bottom? Head or ass? Which do you prefer? Are you BDSM? You into that? Tied up and gagged? I'd stuff it!"

"What the fuck did you say? You sick, disgusting pervert!" Chris shouted. "You aren't a real cop are you? Jessie, get outta here. Don't listen to him. Go out the door!"

The cop's voice seemed to change, reminding Chris of something he had heard before. "Aw, did I make you jealous Chris?" he seemed to growl.

Jessie ran for the door, but a tangled mess of plants seemed to grow up from the floor, barring the way. She scrambled for the kitchen, realizing the back door was open to allow the cold air in. The plant whipped its branch out, catching around Jessie's leg. She fell to the ground, knocking the wind out of her.

"Where are you going, the party's just begun," the cop growled, only it wasn't the cop anymore but the gnarled face of Freddy.

Jessie tried to crawl away from the plant, but it tightened its grip. "No, you're not leaving yet!" Freddy cried, and waved his hands downward. "I haven't nailed you yet!" As he lowered his hands, the nails from the ceiling released from their holding place and shot down at Jessie . Most missed her face, but one stabbed her in the ankle and went through. Her other leg was nailed to the floor.

She screamed out and pain and reflexes told her to reach for her bleeding ankle. She tried to pull the nail out, but it was stuck in too deep for her hands to pull out. The plant started to tug on her entangled leg, and she cried out again because the nail was tearing into her leg from the force.

Chris tried to run toward her, but Freddy snapped his fingers and the kitchen utensils came flying through the wall. Seeing Freddy behind him, Chris ducked, and Freddy was stabbed with the knives. It went fully through, the force of Freddy's powers in full effect.

Freddy fell to the floor, and the plant disappeared. Being injured made his powers falter, and he was unconcious. But the nail was still stuck in Jessie's leg.

Chris ran to her, knowing that time was of the essence and that Freddy would be back. He didn't know how he knew his name, but he remembered him from his dream, and the name seemed to stick in his mind. Chris tried to pull the nail out, but his grasp slipped and he couldn't get it out.

"Don't go easy just because it's gonna hurt me! Pull it out before he wakes up and we're really in trouble." Jessie was wincing in pain, but she had a strength in her eyes that gave Chris courage.

He gripped the nail, and pulled as hard as he could. The nail slipped and and came out with a gush of blood.

"We need to get out of her! Don't worry about my leg, we just need to find a place to go!"

Chris had an idea. The mirror. "I have a place to go. Something happened today at Jack's house, and I was given some strange advice to go back to the dream. I don't know what it meant, but we have to find out."

Jessie was frightened and confused, but she didn't have time to ask. Chris had already picked her up and shoved the door open, enveloping them in the cold night air, heading for Jack's house with a swiftness Jessie had never seen Chris perform before.


	14. Visit to the Boogeyman

**Chapter 14**

"Why are we going to Jack's house?" Jessie demanded, her voice shaking not only from fear but from the jolts she was receiving while being carried by Chris while he ran.

"It's a long story, but you'll see when we get there. Right now, you make sure nothing is behind us." Chris's legs were tired from the running and the strain of carrying Jessie, but right now was not a time for a rest. He needed to keep moving, to gain some distance from them and Freddy.

"I don't see anyone yet," Jessie observed as they ran. "It seems like he's not following us. Maybe he went after someone else."

"Or maybe he's just toying with us."

The steps glistened in the light from the house. The ivy grew up over the walls, seeming to crawl up and up, trying to reach the prize on the roof. Wilted flowers, dying from the oncoming rush of fall, lined the sides of the house. Maybe it wasn't just because of fall. It was also likely that Jack's mother didn't care for them as needed.

The lights glared from the house, a tunnel to Hell, it seemed, from the street. The weeds had seemed to grow, because they were higher than when Chris had first visited the house that afternoon.

In fact, Chris could not remember anything being the same as it was before. The ivy hadn't stretched that far, the lights not on. The flowers had not been wilted beforehand, and it seemed that during the past few hours, the house had aged gradually. It seemed it had somehow went forward in time, increasing the speed at which the living grow and the dead recede.

Putting Jessie down and stepping towards the brighty lit house, the lights cutting through the gloom and mist like a lighthouse ushering in ships to port, Chris couldn't help a shiver run up his spine. Jessie must have felt it also, because she said, "This house has never looked so creepy as now."

"Something's wrong. The house has seemed to change in the past hours, because when I was here before, none of the shrubbery was like this."

"Chris, I'm already scared. Please stop with the nonsense." Jessie could almost feel her heart beat against her chest, and put two hands against it, wanting to muffle the invisible noise.

"It's OK. We'll be careful. Jack's parents might even be home." Chris said this, but in his head, he knew that it wasn't true. The garage was bare, the car gone. The garage looked the same as it had earlier, but now the paint was peeling, the door slightly crooked.

Jack couldn't help but wondering why the light was on. It seemed like it was a sign, like someone was waiting for them. An old friend.

Jack stepped up to the doorjamb. The steps creaked as he shifted his weight. "Everything seems so old. What has happened here?" As Jack took another step, the steps before broke, the wood cracking and shifting down to the ground. "We had better be careful here. Seems like things are breaking everywhere."

Jessie stepped up over the broken step, onto the next one. Being careful, she stepped up to where Jack was and grabbed onto him. Climbing up to the house, they entered into the hallway.

Now brightly lit, the hallway also seemed like it had aged. Moss and mildew crept up the sides, water stains on the roof and floor. More water could be heard dripping farther off in the house.

Upon entering the kitchen, Chris and Jessie were treated to bad smells, rust, and more mold. The kitchen sink was covered in rust, giving the slight appearance of dried blood. The floor reeked of sweat urine, and rat droppings. The refrigerator had ceased to work, and for curiousity's sake, Jack went to it and opened it.

Horrid smells leaked out of the open fridge, a mix of dankness, musty air, and spoiled food. But the worst thing, worse than the smells and the musty air, was the eye preserved in the fridge. It had been planted there, a treasure that curious and sneaky pirates were meant to find. Jessie and Chris were those pirates. But they sure didn't want _that_ treasure.

Chris quickly closed the door before Jessie had a chance to see. The eye would continue to haunt him in his dreams. He still felt like it was staring at him through the metal refridgerator door. And somehow he knew that it was planted by Freddy, some sort of sign. A message, saying that he was watching them.

Moving on to the staircase, Jessie and Chris smelled the odor of stale urine. Gagging on the stench, they moved on as quickly as possible, reaching the top of the staircase and the closed door leading to Jack's room.

Chris knew that he had not closed the door, being to scared and frightened for Jessie to have thought of closing it. His manners had been overridden by fear and adrenaline. But someone, _something_, had followed their manners and closed the door for him.

Jessie stepped behind Chris, hiding, like she would have when she was eight. It reminded her of the time when she had awoke from a dream, screaming and drenched in sweat, and she had gone running to her dad. Leading him to her room, she had made her father search the room, insisting that the boogeyman had been there. Upon closer inspection, finding nothing, Jessie had been reassured and had gone back to sleep. But after the events that had unfolded in these past hours, she was now not so sure that there _was_ no boogeyman.

_(The boogeyman is coming)_

Chris reached forward touching the door, but scared to push it open.

_(The boogeyman is coming)_

Gathering up all his courage, Chris pushed on the door.

_(The boogeyman is coming)_

The door slowly swung open.

_(The boogeyman has come)_


	15. Tango With Death

**Chapter 15**

The door, obviously needing oil, squeaked on it's hinges, swung forward, and with a snap, broke from it's fastenings and fell inward. With a loud crash that shattered the silence of the house, the door fell to the floor. A cloud of dust plumed up from the ground, and finally settled back down to it's original resting spot.

Peering forward into the dusty, dark room, Chris could see nothing of harmful intent. Motioning for Jessie to follow, Chris stepped into the room.

"Wish we brought a flashlight," Jessie whispered. She carefully steeped over the fallen door, like a soldier at war stepping over a fallen comrade.

Chris looked around again. In his situation, overly cautious was not something to shake a finger at. "I don't think anyone is in here. I guess it's ok to look around."

"What are we looking for?" Jessie questioned. She glanced over her shoulder. For some reason, she had the feeling she was being watched. Cliched, maybe, but nonetheless disturbing.

"I don't know yet. But if you find anything that you think would be important, show me." Chris stepped over to the mirror, which was now cracked and broken. Like anything else in the house, the items in Jack's room had aged also.

Jessie went to the dresser, and searched through the drawers. After a couple minutes of thorough searching and finding nothing, she moved on to the closet.

Chris brushed the mirror off with his hand, waving away the layers of dust that had seemed to cover the mirror in a record breaking time of six hours. As before, the mirror looked like a regular mirror, nothing strange or superstitious about it.

Now noticing it for real, the mirror looked old. Not because of the strange rapid againg of the house, but because it looked like it was at least a hundred years old. The border around the reflective glass was rusted, giving it the antique look, probably inherited from a great grandfather or a friend.

The border, though, displayed weird symbols, no written language that Chris had ever seen. Trying to discern what they meant would take years of practice and learning, and Chris didn't try to bullshit himself into thinking he knew what it meant.

Nothing was happening. Unlike last time, the mirror did not magically talk and give Chris secret, cryptic messages conveying the whereabouts of Freddy, or how to stop him. The mirror was just a regular old reflective surface.

"I don't think we'll find anything this time," Chris said solemnly mostly to himself. He glanced around the room one more time, making sure he didn't miss any details. But he must have missed a detail. Because on the wall, the plaster had been slashed, revealing in the patterns words.

**YOU NEED TO GO BACK TO YOUR DREAM**, the message read. The patterns in the wall revealed an urgency, scrawled hastily.

"What dream?"

Behind, Chris heard a scratching sound, against the wall. Another message.

**THE DREAM IN WHICH I DIED**

"This is Jack? How are you talking to me?" Chris's face showed puzzlement, the lines of his mouth in a tight grimace.

**AGAIN, I CANNOT EXPLAIN. THE MAN IS COMING FOR YOU**

"I guess that's all the messages that we are going to receive from Jack. We need to get out of here though. Jack's messages have been right, and if he says Freddy is coming, I would bet my money that he's very close."

Chris picked up Jessie again, and walked out the bedroom door. He looked back at the room, seeing the open doorway, a gaping hole in the giant's mouth.

Too late. From the stairway, Chris could see the evil man, his steel claws glinting in the light.

"You are doing a tango with Death, friends, and you won't win. Death has big feet, and he's sure to step on your toes. He'll crunch them, crush them, and then crush you with on swipe of His blade. Your god won't save you now." Freddy rushed for the stairs, the ratty sweater flapping with the rush of air.

"Jack's parent's room! Run for it, Chris! We need to get out the window!" Jessie yelled urgently.

Chris was frozen, and Jessie could see it. Dropping from his arms, she hooked her arms underneath his legs and lifted him over her shoulder, running through the hallway towards the parent's room.

Any other time would not be approriate to enter another family's bedroom, but this desperate situation called for desperate measures. Another cliche, but it worked.

Nearing the room, so close she could almost see the window, the door slammed shut. Locked, bolted, unable to get in. Beating on the door. Jessie was fucked.

_(Fucked in a tango of death)_

Pounding on the door...

_(Fucked in a tango)_

Pulling on the door...

_(Fucked in a tango)_

Freddy right behind...

_(Fucked in a tango)_

"I told you. You cannot get away. Start praying to your fucking god, because you're gonna need all the help you can get. Your god cannot save you now. You are about to meet Satan, The Dark Lord, the Devil himself. Go to hell, bitch!"

_(Your god cannot save you now)_


	16. Wish You Would Stay

**Chapter 16**

Freddy cackled as he stumbled up the steps towards Jessie and Chris. The cracked and broken steps did not like the force of Freddy's weight. They threatened to fall beneath him as he ran, creaking and ricketing with every pound of Freddy's feet.

Jessie, exhausted and hurting from her wounded foot, collapsed against the door. Chris watched as Freddy rushed at them. He began pounding on the door as well, urgent to get in, to seek shelter, and to get him and his girlfriend out of this hell.

"We need to go!" Jessie screamed. "We need to go _now_!"

"I know, I'm trying! What else do you want me to do?" Chris, frustration setting in, finally gave up his pounding and searched for another way. They were trapped in the hallway, a narrow hallway nonetheless. It seemed as though there was no way out for them.

"I will lure Freddy," Jessie whispered. "You are the stronger one, so you may be able to get the door open when I can't."

"No! You can't do that. You can't risk your life trying to help a losing cause. You are just helping the fire for Freddy. If we both try to run away past him, he may be confused and not get either one of us!"

Freddy neared them in the hallway. He grew uglier every time they saw him, and like a bad omen, was around when anything bad happened. He was evil itself.

"You are trapped now. What are you gonna do? I know you're smarter than this, you _may_ be able to survive if you use your smarts. But the odds are against you," Freddy growled. His grotesque teeth and lips, his burnt face, everything about him screamed evil.

Suddenly, flesh-eaten arms crashed through the door. Actually, upon closer inspection, Chris could see that that the arms hadn't come through the door but actually appeared to be inside the door.

The arms had grabbed Jessie, reaching and clawing for Chris too. He was out of reach, but he couldn't go to Jessie or he would be grabbed too. What should he do?

Freddy reached out with his claw hand towards Chris's face. "And you know what? I'm just fucking around with you right now. This isn't part of my plan, I wan't you to suffer a great deal more than what you are now."

Chris tried to sneak past Freddy on the side wall, wanting to find something that he could use against the evil bastard. Freddy, not preoccupied with Jessie, shot his arm out, slamming Chris against the wall. He was trapped now.

"Stupid boy. I said to use your smarts, not to act like a hero! Now you're both screwed, nothing to do but be trapped. You're at the mercy of me." Freddy flashed his clawed hand, nicking Chris on the left cheek and drawing a line of blood that dripped down his face.

Freddy let Chris go, and Chris dropped to the ground, temporarily stunned by the force of the wall on his head.

"Now, Jessie. Pretty little Jessie. What should I do with you?" Freddy licked his lips. "Does that position remind you of something?"

Jessie spit at Freddy, yelling, "You fucking sick pervert! Chris will cut off your burnt cock!"

"Woah, dirty talk makes me horny! Are you masochistic? I am!" Freddy raised his claw, and struck Jessie across the face, leaving five long lines of blood.

Jessie whimpered, trying to get free from the hands holding her down.

"Shut up, you stupid cunt. I should just kill you now, but I wanna play with you first." Freddy put his face so close to Jessie's that she could smell his putrid breath. He stuck his tongue out and licked the blood off her face."There. All better now?"

Jessie shrunk back as far as she could against the door, letting out heavy sighs. She was scared, scared of what Freddy could or would do to her. "Chris, get up!"

Freddy laughed again, the demonic laugh that he always gave up when something struck him funny. "He's down for the count, Jess. He won't help you. You are a lot stronger than I gave you credit for when I saw you the first time. Could it be that you love Chris?"

"I do love him. And I hope he knows it."

"Aw. How touching. It's too bad he won't be able to hear you say it anymore." Freddy, with no sign of hesitation, compassion, or any other characteristic of a human being, put his claws to Jessie's wrist and slashed it, and then the other. Not enough to kill her instantly, but she would bleed to death in a few minutes.

Freddy went to the motionless Chris lying on the floor, and slapped him hard. "You better wake up and spend your last few precious moments with Jessie. It'll be the last time you'll see her. And don't worry. I'll be back."

And with those final departing words, Freddy vanished. Gone, not even a wisp of smoke where he was. The hands were gone too, Jessie on the floor, a pool of blood puddling around her as she bled from her wrists.

Chris rushed to her, now awake from the hard blow received from Freddy. "We need to get you help, Jessie!" Chris tried to pick her up, but she resisted.

"No..." Jessie whispered. "By the... time we get... there," Jessie said in faltering breaths, "I will be dead anyways. Just... stay with me until I go." Jessie took a deep breath. "And Chris... I love you..."

Chris held her in his arms. "I love you too, Jessie!" he cried as he put his hands around her. He gave her a parting kiss. "I promise you I will kill this bastard and send him back to Hell!"

_You have to go now_

_But I will see you again_

_As you leave me_

_I bitterly regret all the things I've done_

_If I had known you would go_

_So early in your life _

_I would have done what I should have_

_Much earlier than this_

_I feel like I've wasted_

_All of your life away_

_As you lay here in my arms_

_And fight for yourself_

_The strongest woman that I've ever met_

_I wish you would stay with me_

_But that is impossible_

_So you'll be in my dreams_

_And nothing will be the same_

_Without you_

The last thing Jessie heard as she drifted off, drifted off, and died in Chris's arms.


	17. War

**Chapter 17**

What Chris really wanted to do was cry. Or slash his wrists, join Jessie in Heaven, if there was one. He wasn't so sure about his religion anymore. God have really fucked him over this time.

He and Jessie were lying on the ground. Chris wanted to hold her more, to embrace her, feel her, and try to make her come back. But he knew it could never happen. She was gone. Gone...

He let her go. He couldn't keep holding her forever, because sooner or later he would have to fulfill his promise. Of course he was scared; heroism wasn't a huge part of his persona. But he would not let this moment slip through his hands, the moment in time where he lost a part of himself as well as Jessie. Knowing that he had failed to protect the one he loved was something that ashamed him, although he knew that he was dealing with a force well beyond his power.

Staring at Jessie's lifeless body, he remembered a statement that his history teacher had once made.

_"War is not something that should be used, for many reasons. It hurts the people around you. War is terrible. It's not like what you read or see on television orin the movies. War is hell. People don't just get up from those battle wounds. They fall down. No one ever gets up and starts shooting back after they've taken a bullet. It just doesn't work like that. Losing the people you love, and knowing that the cause of the death was an act of murder... There is nothing like that terrible feeling. And you can never forget that feeling. It is an invisible scar you carry throughout your life. Whether you think about it is up to you."_

Then, Chris didn't really know what his teacher was talking about. Now, however, Chris understood fully.

Wiping his tears, he stood up. He knew that now was the time. _Time for what?_ He didn't know, but he figured he would find out soon enough.

But where would he go? Again, the answer came back to him. He wouldn't have to go looking for it; it would come to him.

He started for the stairs. Right now, he would have to leave Jessie's body there. But he would come back for her, after the task was done. After he fulfilled his promise.

He flew down the stairs and out the door. He needed to get ready. But what would he do when it came down to the final fight? He left that question unanswered as he headed out the door into the brisk night air.

_(Forget the preparations, just go and kill the bastard)_

He ran down the street, not sure what to do.

_(Cross the street)_

He made his way over to the corner.

_(To the park)_

Following hidden instincts, he made his way to the park on Christine Street. Crossing through the bushes, he hopped the fence. He spotted something wrong immediatley. In fall they shut down the fountain, but here it was still going. He knew that it was the right place.

It was going down here.

_(Dreams)_

_What?_

_(Use your dreams)_


End file.
